The Study of Love
by mustardgirl1128
Summary: For the "I Never Loved You" challenge. "I feel this warm feeling, this deep respect. And - is that love?" Bits of LunaRolf and NevilleHannah. Oneshot.


_Here comes the night  
Here come the memories  
Lost in your arms  
Down in the foreign fields  
Not so long ago  
Seems like eternity  
Those sweet afternoons  
Still capture me_

~Someday Out of the Blue by Elton John

* * *

"I never loved you."

Her voice is cool, Luna-like, the usual dreamy tone to it.

He looks up, stares at her for a moment, and then looks down again. "Oh really." He's okay with that, he thinks. Maybe.

"I'm sorry I have to tell you now. I don't know why I couldn't tell you ten years ago, when we were freshly single and you still had some of that roundness." She leans forward and strokes his cheek, and he lets his eyes close.

"Luna," he whispers, "I loved you. I'll always love you."

She looks surprised, withdraws her hand. "Hannah – "

"Is my wife. And I love her, too. Desperately. Wholly. Irrevocably. But you – you are my friend – my _best_ friend. And so I love you."

"You were my first crush. I didn't really like anyone else, and hadn't before," she muses, folding her hands and looking at them.

"Yeah. I know that – you told me that. You told me _wouldn't it be cool_ – like we were in a romance novel that always ends happily-ever-after – _wouldn't it be cool if you and I got married?_"

"Because you were my first, Neville, my first boyfriend and sweetheart and kiss and everything. But I – I never loved you."

"Do you love me now?" he asks, tentatively, their eyes locked.

She turns her head away, breaking the look. "I don't know. My love has been bottled up inside of me forever. I only ever _really_ loved my mum and my dad, and when my mum died it started retreating. And then everyone was so horrible to me, and – and I just took it, didn't care. Or maybe I did. But I lost my ability to love people – honest to Merlin love people – and I don't know if I love you." The last bit comes out rushed, like she's so apologetic, she _wants_ to love him.

"Rolf?" he asks. "Do you love Rolf?"

"Yes," she says, without hesitation. "Maybe not purely, maybe not unselfishly, but I love him. And if I have children – Merlin, if I have children, they will be so loved, _so_ loved."

"Then why can't you love me?" His tone isn't accusatory. Just curious.

A tear trickles down her face. "I don't _know_. Merlin, Neville, I've tried. I've told myself that you have unfailingly been there for me. I've told myself I can't _not_ love you – you're so sweet, so kind, so amazing to me. My best friend." She puts her head in her hands, her hair shielding her face, her shoulders shaking. He puts a hand on her back.

"You don't have to – " he says, his voice wavering, " – you don't have to love me. If you can't. You don't have to talk."

"No, I _have_ to. You have to understand!" And though now her tears come faster, her whole body shaking with the force, she continues. "I've told myself that, and you know what? I feel this warm feeling, this deep respect. And – is that love, Neville? _Is that love_?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know, Luna. I just – I don't know. _You_ know."

She lets out a sob, a shaky sob. "I do know. I do know, but I can't figure it out. I can't put it together! What's the _matter_ with me?" She sniffles loudly, and he takes her hand, forcing it from her face.

"Luna. Luna! Nothing. There's nothing wrong with you, and how _dare_ you think that way? How _dare_ you think that you _not_ knowing something is bad! Is _wrong_! Luna. Luna, look at me!"

She looks up, her face red, her eyes rimmed and tears streaking down her face.

"You don't have to love me."

She leans forward, hugs him. "I – I don't know." She takes a deep breath, and stands up, wiping her eyes, suddenly calm, delivered from that horrible panic from just a moment ago. "I love my husband. I love my father. I will love my children. I – I think I can love my best friend."

He stands as well, smiles at her, kisses her cheek. "You don't have to." He repeats it, over and over, "You don't have to."

She sniffs loudly. "I know," she whispers, and then she walks out of his study, her arms swinging by her sides, as though a burden has been lifted from her shoulders but placed on her heart.

"I love you, Luna Scamander. I love you."

* * *

A/N: This is _not_ a romantic piece. Just friendship. _Just_. They're both happily married, thanks.  
Just clarifying. :) I love this idea – the fact that Luna & Neville had something really special when they were younger, but they broke up and somehow, with work, managed to stay best friends. (It's been done. Hard to believe, but it has.) And then Neville marries Hannah & has his beautiful children, and a couple years later Luna follows suit. So this is my take on the internal struggle that all that cost them.  
So…opinions? :D


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